


Labios

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes, what?" he snaps. Watch the screen. Watch the screen because then he doesn't have to turn around and see that he's been caught—finally, it really has been three years, you'd think he'd notice by now—except that's not what's happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Labios

The first thing Rodney does after he meets John Sheppard—well, okay, after noticing _hey, tall lanky guy makes the chair light up and doesn't fight me like Beckett_ —is notice the man's lips. Because they aren't a man's lips. Men have thin lips, especially skinny white boys like Sheppard, lips that disappear unless they're smiling or pursing them full for kisses. And sometimes not even then.

Rodney knows this because he's made something of a science of men's lips. He likes them. Yes, all right, he likes men in general, but lips are part of a man's features and while they aren't as nice as women's lips, he gets to feel them a hell of a lot more and he's learned that geeky science genius don't have as much choice as, say, your average stone-brained quarterback.

He's not bitter. Really.

Anyway. Sheppard's lips. They aren't thin or hard or chapped, like most guys. They're _soft_. They look soft, full and pillow-perfect, like a woman's shapely mouth, and for the first month in Atlantis—after the screaming and the drowning and the vampires—Rodney finds himself spending far too much time staring at Sheppard's lips. It gets to be a problem in meetings, but since no one seems to notice, he doesn't ever teach himself how to stop. And when he isn't staring, he's thinking about them, comparing them to a woman's lips, which makes him thinks of a woman's breasts, and yes, so his fantasies for the first couple months were a little strange. He was under an enormous amount of stress! And it's not like he _actually_ thought Sheppard was a woman. Just that... well, it'd be nice if he was.

Somewhere after Koyla takes a chunk out of him, Rodney stops thinking of Sheppard with breasts, ignoring his psyche's sigh of relief because hey, it was good fantasy jerk-off material. But he doesn't stop thinking about Sheppard's lips. Or Sheppard in general, but the androgynous mouth is easier to handle since even Rodney understands the term _off limits_ and Sheppard is practically the definition.

It only makes matter worse that for a laconic kind of guy, Sheppard uses his lips a _lot_. He's always licking them, keeping them shiny and smooth without the gloss that's traded around his lab for coffee— _coffee_! How can women skew the necessities of life that way?—or worse, he's flattening them, hiding them away as he thinks through something that's particularly bothersome, or he's nervous, or about to kill something. Someone.

The mouth-hanging-open look is never flattering, but Rodney can't seem to mind when it's Sheppard because those sweet, kissable lips look even more tempting when he's got them parted, like all he has to do is lean forward and—

"Three years, McKay."

Uh? Rodney blinks, focusing on meaningless images that gradually resolve into the Dark Knight, terrorizing a realistic-looking Gotham. God he loves Christopher Nolan. _That_ is a man who understands Batman's tortured genius.

"McKay!"

"Yes, what?" he snaps. Watch the screen. Watch the screen because then he doesn't have to turn around and see that he's been caught—finally, it really has been three years, you'd think he'd notice by now—except that's not what's happening.

Because Sheppard's got his hand curving around Rodney's jaw, long fingers surprisingly cool against his skin, turning Rodney's head so he can't look away.

"You've been watching my mouth for three years, Rodney."

It doesn't sound like a prelude to a random act of homophobia, since those mobile, fascinating lips are quirked up into the half-smile Sheppard wears when he's truly amused and isn't sure he wants anyone else to know it. "Um?" Rodney says. "I'm sorry?"

The half-grin vanishes into a true smile, sweet and incalculably rare, visible for only a few seconds before Sheppard leans forward, kissing that smile from his lips to Rodney's. He doesn't seem to mind that Rodney's not kissing back, his mind too busy stuttering like a scratched up record to processes his next move. John doesn't seem to mind, kissing the corner of Rodney's mouth before pulling away. "I've been waiting three years for you to make a move, Rodney. I'm gettin' kinda tired of waiting."  
  
Wait, really? There was _waiting_? And all this time he could have made a move, because it seems Sheppard _isn't_ off limits, he's suddenly very much with the offering of himself, and he's been _waiting_ for this? Rodney suddenly has a hundred things to ask, a thousand ideas he needs to present right this minute, chasing around in his mind until it's effectively off-line, sent into overload by sheer hungry greed.  
  
Sheppard seems to be expecting that, waiting until Rodney's eyes make some kind of ‘does not compute' signal. Then he leans forward again and kisses him. Really kisses him, waiting until Rodney gets with it enough to kiss back. It's slow and chaste, mouths barely open as they brush their lips together, sinuous and wet and so perfect that Rodney isn't honestly sure he wants any more than this. Just this.  
  
Sheppard pulls away with a light smacking sound, running a tongue over his lower lip, while his eyes maintain his smile. "I'm going to kiss you again. Okay?"  
  
Is this why he wanted a him-and-Rodney only movie night? Not that Rodney _cares_ because this time the kiss is deeper, wetter, John licking into his mouth like he's wanted to taste Rodney as badly as Rodney's wanted to taste him, and now he _can_ and—  
  
Rodney very firmly tells his mind to shut up. Some things don't require thought, and kissing John Sheppard is one of them.  
  
Letting his eyes close, Rodney tilts his head and cups Sheppard's cheek, his thumbs just brushing the corner of his mouth, and kissing back with everything he has.  
  
"Three years, McKay," John tells him later, "and you never noticed I was watching _your_ mouth just as much?"  
  
Rodney kisses him quiet, stealing words and breath and everything he offers so freely to Sheppard, his for the taking whenever he wants it; he doesn't need to know anything else.


End file.
